All the Difference
by Ginger Black
Summary: Charlotte fell in love once, and though it broke her heart, she would always say it was worth it. Only on the good days, of course. On the bad days, she could only curse his name.
1. Ghost

**Disclaimer: **This world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm only thankful that I was able to experience it.

**All the Difference**

**Chapter 1: Ghost**

_He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?_

_He would not stay for me to stand and gaze._

_I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder,_

_And went with half my life about my ways._

_-A.E. Housman_

* * *

I dreamed of him again last night. For a moment I did not think it a dream, but a reality so true and wonderful, that when it did end, it stung more than any after dream feeling I have ever had. His eyes were still cold and gray, calculating and begging for approval. They were dark around the edges, just like I remember from those years of ancient past. Though it feels like it was yesterday that he awkwardly placed his arms around me and first put his head in the crook of my neck, unsure if that is how people really showed affection. Sometimes when I am alone in the dark, I make deals in my head, and beg an unknown being for just one moment more. Just one kiss. Just one look. My pleas are made even more desperate by the knowledge that I have never believed in a God. However, if he was to appear before me for just a moment more, I think I'd follow any religion, any false prophet.

"You should move on," are words I hear at least once a year. I have heard it more in years past, but most know better now. There is no moving on, no next destination for me. He has always been the only way, and maybe if I had known that the first time my heart fluttered at his voice, I would have run away. I would have known better than to spend my life pining for someone who cannot bend the laws of man and nature to come back to me. There was once a time when my sister found me in a bathroom, curled up in a corner with an empty potions bottle, numb and defeated. I thought I could bend the other way to be with him, but I learned that I'd leave others just the way he had left me. Besides, I had a greater responsibility then, and my sister made certain that I understood that.

Thus I had no choice to get out of bed, to comb my hair, to put that same old smile on my face, and forget that dream. It might seem like I pine everyday for him, that there is not a moment that he is not in my thoughts, but that would be a lie. There are times when he is out of my mind, when I do not think of what he would be doing if he were with me. There are whole days when I do not think of him once. Those nights are the hardest. They are filled with guilt and longing, dug into one tragic wound.

Before I even have time to set the water to boil for tea, I hear my doorbell ring. Rarely do I have guests at home that do not own a key, so it is a surprise. I glance at the mirror as I pass through the hallway. Same innocent looking face, same mousey brown hair that he said he loved. Though the lines around the eyes are new, and the face is altogether older.

"Coming," I call when it rings a second time, as I brush the right side of my hair behind my ear. I've always hated hair in my face, but keep it too short to put up. I open the door without a second thought, though by this time I should know better. The years after I was always paranoid, and would never let anyone in. Those were days of terror, when we weren't quite sure he was gone. And besides, there were still his followers to worry about, and I knew firsthand how cruel they could be.

It takes me a second to realize who the man in front of me is, but when I do, shock hits me.

"Remus? Remus Lupin?" I ask, even though this man looks much older, older even than what I calculate is Remus' current age. His genuine sad smile confirms my suspicions.

"Yes, you remember."

"Of course I do," I reply softly, even as confusion fills me. I have not seen Remus in years, so long ago, that when I have thought of him, it has always been of a young sandy-haired boy with old eyes. Much has happened since then, and pain does age one on the outside as well as on the inside.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

"Are you looking for Emmeline? She doesn't live here anymore."

"No, I wanted to speak to you Charlotte." There is an apology already written on his face warning me that this will not be a pleasant conversation.

"Right then, come along." He does so, and I lead him to the sitting room. We sit in sullen silence for a minute, and just when I begin to break it, he goes to do the same. We both stop, and look at one another with the same nervous smile. He clears his throat a bit, though I make no offer of water like a good hostess. I want to know why he is here, and as soon as possible.

"It's strange, you know. I remember talking to you quite often at Hogwarts. I'd almost say we were friends, study partners at the very least. But you're a stranger now, because I am not that same girl I was then, so I know that you are not that same boy. However, you may be frank with me, I am not Emmeline." He nods in agreement, and for a moment I see fear at the thought of Emmeline's temper.

"I take it you've heard. It's been some time after all." Of course, I should have known someone besides my sister would talk to me about him. Though my faith in the Order greatly decreases in the time it has taken for someone to come. It has been almost a year, an entire Hogwarts year at least.

"This is about Sirius Black then? I haven't seen him, though heaven knows why you'd think he would contact me." I say his name like it is a stranger, like I did not know him once in another life.

"Well I-," he starts but I immediately interrupt him.

"I don't think I'm in danger if this is what this is about." I want him to leave, and now. I don't need reminders of that life I left.

"No, I don't think you're in any danger. And I most certainly don't think Sirius would ever hurt you." He says it with such certainty that I believe he thinks he is convincing me. I don't need convincing.

"He never committed those crimes, I have never believed that. So you see, I do not think of Sirius as a dangerous man. I know you believe he betrayed Lily and James all those years ago, but he didn't." Their names are foreign on my tongue, said so long ago, that my mouth has forgotten how to form them together. They were just Lily and just James when I knew them. Now they are forever Lily and James.

"I know." I'm surprised at his admission and the sadness in which he says it. "I should have never believed it myself. I was a fool, and I hope one day he can forgive me. But how have you always been so sure? There was so much evidence."

Suddenly a long ago night comes back to me, and I am in Hogwarts again standing with two lost brothers. The dark mark, the damp feelings of the dungeons, and the coldness of the moment far outweighing the coldness of the night surround me. It all comes back, nauseating me and bringing up feelings I have long tried to suppress. Most of all I remember Sirius' eyes filled with disappointment, sadness, and a great anger, that I knew mirrored my own. One look into those eyes, and you would know that he would never have joined them.

"I just know," is what I tell Remus, however. "Emmeline knew too."

"It seems you both knew him better than I did. I'm glad someone did at least." He straightens up and I can tell he is going to finally make his point. "Whatever I say here today cannot be shared with anyone else. It is of the utmost importance that you never repeat what I have to say." I nod, and that is all he needs. He knows that I am the greatest secret keeper of all.

"I have seen Sirius." My eyes lock with his, and I hang on every word. "He's in hiding with the Order now. We all know he didn't betray Lily and James. Emmeline has seen him as well."

"Then why isn't she here talking to me?" I am suspicious now, and curse myself for not realizing that from the beginning he was here to ask something of me.

"She would not agree to it." He looks straight at me, the amber specks in his eyes crystal clear to me. "He wants to see her."

"No," I say immediately. "Absolutely not."

"They're family, he should be able to-,"

"Get out." I'm up in an instant, and I grab his sleeve to pull him up as well. "Get out of my house now." He quickly stands, pleading with me to calm down. I'm already dragging him to the front door, feeling nothing but my anger. I whip the door open and push him in front of me. "Do not come back here."

"Please Charlie," he says, calling me a nickname I haven't heard in many years. It does nothing to weaken my resolve, and I go to slam the door in his face. Our eyes connect in a moment, and I see the dread he feels in telling a man who has been locked up for more than thirteen years that I have refused him.

I'm shaking too much to fully understand what I'm doing as I lock the door, and rush to my bedroom. I collapse on the bed, a mess of shivers and tears. I have held the sobs back for so long now, that I feel relief at their release. A rush of anger hits me, and I wonder how Remus could dare to come to my house and make such a request. Just as fast as the anger comes, it leaves, and I am left with realization that I am not angry at his request. I am angry at the ripple effect this request will cause. I am afraid of the long story I have kept locked away in a wooden box with a spider's web carved on top. I will have to tell this story to her, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to. I used to be strong, and though Emmeline tells me I am even stronger, I feel weaker inside.

I tightly close my eyes and picture him before me. If I ignore the longing, he will soothe me. Hogwarts surrounds me, and there he is, reaching towards me, a secretive smile playing on his lips. My heartbeat quickens, and just for a second, I remember what it feels like to be in love, and not heartbroken. It is worth the pain that comes afterwards.


	2. Toad

**Chapter 2: Toad**

"It started with a toad." Those would have been the first words I told our children as I described to them our love story. I can see him sitting across from me rolling his eyes, conveying with every facial movement "Must you really tell this?" I would have responded with a cheeky half-smile, and continued along pretending that he was fine with this sugar-coated tale. I would have made the story funny, more dramatic, and blurred the facts to make the incident seem destined. The truth, however, was that the entire event was altogether sad, and it forever changed me.

In the fall of nineteen hundred and seventy-six, I was a typical Ravenclaw. That is to say I fit the stereotype: I liked books, received good grades, and was often found in the library. I was a bit of a loner, though I did have a few friends, and close acquaintances. For the most part, I went unnoticed and besides receiving a prefect badge that year, not much was happening in my life. My very appearance screamed blandness, and I can assure you that most students did not look twice at me. My fellow fifth year Ravenclaws did occasionally when I scored higher marks than them, or when they discovered that I was at the top of our class. This, however, only made me enemies, as few wanted to befriend the competition. Still, I tended to blend in, except for one minor green and brown part of my life.

His name was Barney, and despite my insistence that he was harmless, the girls in my dormitory routinely squealed and fled at his presence. It could be because he had a knack for sneaking away in the middle of the night, only to end up on the unsuspecting chest of one of my roommates. I cannot say that Barney was the prettiest thing to wake up to, but he was hardly the deadliest, and was more than likely the one to suffer an injury from the intrusion. I had pinpointed his midnight excursions to a love of breasts. Since I was substantially lacking in that area, I understood his need to seek broader, and bigger, pastures. My conclusion stemmed from his preference of Kathleen Davies, my well endowed roommate. Her shrieking on one Monday morning alerted me to yet another assault committed by my Barney.

"That's it, I've had enough!" Kathleen yelled at me as she ripped my curtains apart. At the time, I was fearful of the tousled haired girl. Looking back, the image only invokes fond memories of a simpler time when waking up to toads was a tragedy. As fit as Kathleen was, she did not have a very attractive face. She was the victim of taunts from the Hogwarts male population at large, in a cruel way that only teenage boys could be to adolescent girls. I had always felt sympathy for her plight, blessed with such a beautiful body, and cursed with a less than mediocre face. I can assure you then that my wake up was just as unpleasant as Kathleen's. It made me almost pleased with my average appearance, as it did not garner attention in either direction.

It did not take me long to understand what was happening, as I had never been a light sleeper, and would be wide awake as soon as my eyes were open. It was one of many talents acquired from my father.

"I'm sorry Kathleen, I didn't think he'd run away again." I replied. It would not be my first weak apology that day.

"Run away?" she panted in disbelief. "He hopped two meters from your bed to mine!" I thought it more two and a half meters, but did not have the heart to correct her.

"Yes, Kathleen, and I'll make certain that it won't happen again." This statement only added fuel to the fire Kathleen. Her face turned an abnormal red, and I could tell she had stopped breathing for several seconds.

"You better bloody well believe it won't happen again!" And before I knew it, she had yanked me up by the collar of my night-gown, and brought me close to her own face. Her eyes widened as she spoke through clenched teeth, hovering over my form. "The toad must go." My own eyes must have widened and showed my suppressed fear at such an ominous statement, as a voice intervened.

"Really Kathleen, let her go. You're overreacting, you know." Clairevonte Smith shared a similar under endowed chest, and thus had not been a past victim of Barney's. I thought she rather enjoyed the shrieking of Davies, or our other three dorm mates. I would have appreciated her help a little more if she did not look so ridiculous at all times, thus making it hard to take her serious. Even now, I knew Kathleen felt no threat from her. She wore a paisley red scarf over her light auburn hair, hiding the curlers I knew that laid underneath, and a night-dress I'm certain my grandmother would have insisted was out of style. She was not the heroine I was hoping for.

"Easy for you to say Claire, this beady eyed monster didn't attack you." I could feel Kathleen's breath on my face as she angrily yelled out the words. I would hardly call him a monster.

"I'm sure he didn't mean any harm." I only dug myself in deeper with that statement.

"What did he mean then Vance? Care to explain it to me?" By this time, the rest of our dormitory was awake, and I thought I'd have another ally in the form of Alizia Thickneese.

"Well he gets a tad adventurous at night, and sometimes he just goes for a journey."

"Oh well, just a little journey then, right on to my chest. No problem at all then Vance," she mocked, her voice going higher as she tilted her head from side to side. "Next time just let me know that we've a journeyman present, and I'll prepare."

"Okay then," I stupidly replied. The only responses I could elicit were ones that would escalate the situation.

"Not "okay then!" Are you stupid Vance?"

"That's enough!" Finally, Alizia decided to intervene. "You're taking it a tad too far now Kathy." Kathleen and I both looked directly across the room towards Alizia. "Now I understand you're angry, and as a past victim, I can relate. But you can't just man handle Charlotte." Kathleen released me, shoving me slightly as she rose from my bed.

"Then what do you suppose I do?" she huffed in response.

"We're Ravenclaws, we can discuss this and come to a proper solution." At this time, as I had done on many previous occasions, I wondered why Alizia had not been made prefect. Though I would consider myself the most level-headed and studious among our group, Alizia had the leadership qualities and social skills that made a prefect. She often ended our disputes, and was the only girl in our dorm that was friends with every one of us. It saddened me to realize that maybe that was why she was my friend, but I quickly moved on from the thought. If I did not think I had enough close friends, I had only myself to blame. It was I who decided to spend my hours in the library, instead of making lifelong bonds of friendship.

"I say we burn the frog!" Margaret Orpington yelled out, to my horror. She was standing on her bed, her curly brown hair tattered out at all sides of her head, and she held a victorious arm in the air, looking the perfect spokesperson for an angry mob.

"He's a toad," I defended.

"I don't care what he is, but that ugly little bugger has to go," Samantha Redding joined in. I had thought she was the nice Ravenclaw.

"That's right," Kathleen piped up, smiling at her victory. "He's a menace."

"I'm sorry Charlotte, I really am," Samantha continued, her golden bob moving with her facial expressions. "But I can't take it anymore. Every time I come back to the room, he's always there. Just staring, and waiting. And that awful croaking. It's like he starts to croak, but then just stops, and you're just waiting and waiting for the croak to end! When will it end Charlotte?" Her eyes were manic and desperate, pleading with me to understand.

"The other day he was just sitting on my defense book, and I couldn't move him. He was looking at me, and I knew it'd be no good to move him. I had to go to class without it, and borrow Regulus Black's book. Regulus Black, Charlotte!" Margaret told her tale of woe committed by my dear Barney. I had not known how much he had terrorized my roommates until this moment, and felt somewhat bad for their plight. Though I saw Barney as no threat, and would have simply pushed him off my textbook, I could understand the hesitance to touch his scaly skin. I looked over to Alizia for an ally, but she was avoiding eye contact.

"That settles it, the toad must go!" Kathleen yelled to her warriors. And they responded back to her call for action with an unsettling chorus of "The toad must go!"

Ignoring their chant of ousting, I sprang to my feet to find my beloved. I found him lying upside down beside Kathleen's bed with a small cut on his leg. I could tell he was shaken and pulled him close to my chest, offering what little comfort I could. Things were quickly getting out of hand, and at this point, I feared for his life. It did not take much imagination to envision Margaret with a pitchfork, standing guard as Kathleen lit a fire.

"Enough!" Alizia shouted, finally putting an end to the madness that had befallen our dorm. "I have a solution. I agree that the frog must go; he has more than once been an unwelcome presence in my life. However, we cannot expect Charlotte to simply dump him."

"Why not?" Margaret asked. "I hear Slughorn needs some more toad eyes for potions." Margaret only succeeded in reminding me of something that I already struggled morally with. I had often debated with myself if it was ethical for me to conjure potions that required ingredients such as toad eyes or toad legs, when I owned a toad myself. I had spent many a guilty night with Barney because of such assignments.

"That won't be necessary," Alizia assured my appalled face. "We must give Charlotte some time to find the toad a new home. I propose two weeks, just enough time for her to get in contact with her parents, or to make arrangements with Professor Flitwick." I thought it a reasonable solution, though I was hesitant to give up Barney. We had spent years together, and it would not be the same without him. I, however, accepted that this was no longer a safe environment.

"Fine," Kathleen agreed. "But he can't stay here when Charlotte isn't here. We can't have Margaret borrowing Regulus Black's book anymore."

"That's only fair," Alizia said. Clairevonte looked over at me in apology, but I acknowledged that there was nothing she could do. I was outnumbered even with her allied support. "I'm sorry Charlotte." Alizia was staring at me as she said those words, questioning our wiry friendship.

"I'll figure something out," I said. I sat down on my bed and closed my curtains, still clutching Barney. While I listened to the renegades of Ravenclaw prepare for the day, I tended to Barney's wound. I had salve and bandages in my desk drawer that I reached out of my curtains to grab. When I was finished, I took a good look at him. He stared back, his cold black eyes analyzing me, filling me with warmth from the familiarity.

Mine and Barney's meeting was a bit of a love story in itself. It was not full of theatrics, but I thought it a tale of fate. Emmeline, my father, and I had wandered through Diagon Alley long after all our supplies were bought, the summer before my first year at Hogwarts. We had no real destination, and had taken to window shopping. It was only by chance that we wandered into the Magical Menagerie, as I had taken a little fall right outside. As Emmeline and my father viewed the many-colored cats, I felt a pull towards the toads. There were different ones, some orange, some with yellow stripes, and some with golden eyes. There were a few normal crusty looking toads, but even they did not catch my fancy. It was only when I noticed a toad all on his lonesome that I met my prince charming. The moment I was in his direct line of sight, allowing our eyes to meet, I knew he must be mine. Love at first sight. The shop keeper even gave me discount, since he was older than the others. And now that I think upon that time, I do remember a mumbled "good riddance to the menace" before we left the shop. Even then it looked as if Barney was causing trouble.

Emmeline made fun of me for my choice, and called me "toad girl" for days after. "Do you know how useless a toad is at Hogwarts?" she would ask me, full of a confidence only granted by the experience of one year at Hogwarts. I must say that Barney did look inadequate next to her beautiful owl, Lark. My father only smiled at the toad and asked me his name. I think he was happy that I had done something out of the norm for myself, as he often thought I was unhappy. "Barnaby Rudge," I replied, and my father laughed. I could tell it pleased him that I named my toad after one of his favorite Dickens' novels.

Once the rest of the girls left, I left my quiet alcove to prepare for the day, with a surprising optimism. Mondays were in any case my favorite day of the week. I spent hours every Sunday night preparing for my week, so by the time Monday morning came along, I was filled with anticipation. Mondays always worked out for me in the end, and it was with this resolve, that I vowed to solve my current predicament. I would have to find Barney a new home, that much was clear, and I had to begin the search immediately. When I was properly dressed in my uniform, I placed Barney in my magically enlarged school bag, and began my journey. Right before exiting, I followed my usual routine, and gave myself a once over in the mirror.

"Tie straight, two bobby pins on the left side of the hair, stockings all in order," the mirror said to me. I thanked her with a gentle smile and went about my way to my first destination.

It took a lot of courage on my part to approach the Gryffindor table but I did it in the end. It was an intimidating house, and why shouldn't it be, with a motto of "their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart." There was always laughter or some great drama afoot. Giggling girls, ridiculous arguments with no cause, some mischievous boy with a glint in his eye, and spilled porridge were common scenes at this table. For a quiet Ravenclaw who spent Friday nights in wool socks with a good book, it was not a very welcoming place. Emmeline sat in the thick of it with a constant scowl on her face, her boisterous voice carrying over many others.

"Emmeline," I tried once to no avail. She was arguing with one of the boys, shaking her head viciously and releasing some of her dark brown hair from its ponytail.

"I'm telling you now Vance, if you think the Chudley Cannons have a chance, you're a bigger fool than I thought," the boy proclaimed. I should have known Quidditch would be the topic of choice, as it was the only thing Emmeline ever wanted to talk about.

"Says the idiot who turned his hair pink in charms," she responded flashing everyone the eggs in her mouth.

"I thought it an improvement," some girl quipped from across the table.

"Shove off Evans," Emmeline yelled. I tapped her on the shoulder gently, causing her to hastily turn around and scream "What?" Some of the egg landed just below my right eye as recognition dawned on her face. The laughter that followed was quickly snuffed by the glare on Emmeline's face.

"What do you want?" Emmeline asked impatiently.

"I need a favor," I replied tentatively, brushing off the egg. I did not often come to Emmeline with problems, and I can say we rarely talked at school. "It's about Barney."

"That horrible toad of yours? Finally croaked, has he? About time, I say," she said it as if his death was no big deal.

"No! He's alive. It's just; I need a new place for him to stay. The girl's in my dorm have ousted him."

"A toad's been ousted?" I heard someone ask, leading to an entirely separate conversation.

"I'd say he croaked up the wrong tree," another said.

"That was horrible."

"I thought it brilliant James."

"Good for them," Emmeline responded to me.

"But he has no place else to go!" I said urgently, trying to make her understand the severity of the situation.

"Burn him for all I care," she said turning around. It disturbed me that such an idea had been brought up twice in one day. A scream a few seats down startled me before I could formulate a reply. There was a commotion and a lot of pushing as a group of younger girls jumped from the bench. To my utter amazement, sitting in a bowl of porridge, in the middle of the ruckus, sat Barney.

"Where had he learned to be a master escape artist?" I wondered.

I rushed over and scooped him up for the second time that day. I turned around to give my apologies but was met with a group of angry glares. A particularly bulky girl with braids and freckles scared me the most, as I saw images of vengeance dance across her face. I could not blame her, as the fright of my toad had caused food to be scattered across the bodies of many of the girls. Emmeline approached me and I felt safer, as I saw some of the girls recoil.

She placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "The toad must go."

I had decided that he certainly must not.

The rest of my day followed a similar pattern. Everywhere I went, including class; Barney caused a disaster. I could not understand how a toad that had barely been noticed for four years had suddenly decided to go on a crime spree across Hogwarts. And no matter how hard I tried to keep him encased in my bag, he always found a way out. I was at my wit's end by the time I reached my last class, Potions. I stood there with my partner, Alizia, on edge, waiting for Barney's next prank. I prayed it would not involve Bertha Carter's head again. I did not think she could take another offense.

To my relief, Barney remained quiet, and I thought he was done with giving my heart such grief. I had made more enemies that day than I had in my entire life so far. I planned a nice evening for us that involved a quiet classroom and his tank, filled with water and grub. I reached in my bag to retrieve Barney and break the good news, but I came up empty-handed. I frantically searched for him, but it was hopeless. Barney was gone.

Thus, I spent the next three hours retracing my steps, hoping to run across Barney. He did not pick a good day to go missing, as more than one student had suggested burning him alive only hours earlier. I was past the point of desperation when I stumbled into an old corridor near what I assumed was the Gryffindor common room. Emmeline had never showed it to me, but I remember her heading somewhat in this direction when we parted. There were loud voices ahead, in a sort of argument, so I thought it best to turn around, and pretend all was well. Alizia should have been prefect. One word startled me, and made me quickly change my mind. That word was "toad." I ran ahead, and stopped short of a few boys with their wands drawn. They did not notice me at first, and I took a couple of seconds to examine the scene.

Regulus Black stood on the left side of the corridor in all his pure blood Slytherin glory, with an angry scowl upon his face. He was in my year, so perhaps, I should have been more aware of him, but I was not. This was really the first time I had looked at him, instead of right through him. He was handsome, I suppose, in a less obvious way than most good-looking boys. You did not notice it initially, but beneath the rigid front, there was a soft face and high cheekbones. Across from him, equally enraged stood fours Gryffindor boys ready for a fight.

"We should all just take a second to calm down," the one I knew as Remus Lupin spoke. Remus Lupin was every Ravenclaw girl's wet dream; the perfect mix of bookworm and bad boy, so I was quite acquainted with him. You could not pass a gaggle of Ravenclaw girl's whispering without the faint echo of "Remus" being present. Samantha was particularly smitten with him, and I had once listened to a detailed account of the little facts she knew of his life. There were only so many ways to say he was fond of chocolate and had an ill mother.

"Sod off half-blood!" Regulus yelled back, taking a step forward.

"Don't talk to him that way Death Eater," another responded, and it became clear to me that he was related to Regulus. It took a second, but I soon understood who these boys were. I had recognized them this morning when they were sitting with Emmeline, but worries of Barney had clouded my brain. They were very popular, and I had been present more than once at one of their pranks in the great hall. Along with Remus, the gang was composed of James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and one Sirius Black. Emmeline often spoke of them, mostly in the midst of curses and farfetched revenge schemes. I had heard they were not very kind to their fellow sixth year girls.

Before I knew what was happening, the Black brothers began casting curses at one another, although I saw Remus trying to convince Sirius to walk away. My eyes were drawn to the middle, and much to my surprise, there sat Barney. Fearing for his life, I made a rash decision to rush ahead. Right before I reached the flying curses, I dropped to my knees, and slid forward. When I reached Barney, I hunched over him protectively and hoped for a miracle. Thankfully, they stopped and there was an awkward silence.

"What is she doing?" Sirius asked.

"That's Emmeline's sister," was the reply.

"She's mad," I heard James Potter say.

"I'm sorry, but you were going to hurt Barney," I said, not lifting my head, and hoping they could understand my muffled voice.

"Who's Barney?" Sirius inquired.

"He's my toad."

"Your toad," a voice spoke from my left.

"Yes, my toad. Barney. I'd appreciate it if you didn't involve him in your petty feud. I'm a prefect you know, I could report you," I informed them, my voice sounding even snooty to my ears.

"Involve him?" Sirius said exasperated. "Why, he's what this whole thing's about!" I felt my heart stop for just a second as I stupidly comprehended that Barney had struck again.

"Did he steal your toad?" Regulus asked me, confusing me even more.

"Who?" He hesitated in his response, but once he spoke, I could tell it pained him to say his own brother's name.

"Sirius."

"I don't think so. I thought he just escaped," I said feebly, still not looking up.

"Well my beloved brother thinks I planted that toad in his bag," Sirius informed me, and I could tell even then what a smirk sounded like.

"We have potions together," I said calculating a possible scenario. "He must have gone into your bag then."

"Is this the toad that's being ousted?" James asked me.

"Are you the one that made that awful "croaked" joke?" I asked.

"It was brill," James responded affronted, and I heard a quiet laugh.

"Looks like you owe me an apology," Sirius spat.

"Never will I apologize to a filthy blood-traitor," Regulus replied, and abruptly the air was tense again.

"Of course a mommy's boy like you would say that," Sirius alleged, and I saw the similarity in the way Emmeline mocked me with "daddy's girl." It was not meant to be a good thing in the first place, but Sirius' words had more of a bite to them. Emmeline had not been a very agreeable sister to grow up with, and more than once had held my head against the wall until I yelled "Uncle." Still, I could not imagine her saying such words to me, or even cursing me. "Tell me Reggie, when do you get your mark? It'd make a nice 16th, I think."

"It's none of your business. You're no longer part of the family."

"Good thing too, I don't have to deal with a pesky arsehole brother like you anymore," Sirius told him, and I thought it cruel. I could hear an intake of breath on Regulus' part, and waited for his retort.

"One day you'll regret these words," was his shabby reply.

"And one day I'm going to send you to Azkaban for the rest of your life," Sirius told him sincerely. My mind was becoming fuzzy with all the talk of death eaters and Azkaban. I had come across a grimmer quarrel than I thought.

"I look forward to the challenge," Regulus whispered, but I was certain they all heard him.

"Let's go," James commanded, a fearless leader if I ever heard one.

"You should keep a better eye on your toad," Sirius told me, and I gazed up to catch a good look of him. He was staring at me sternly, and I felt a shiver run down my spine at his chilly eyes. He turned away from me and followed the rest of them before I could respond.

"This is entirely your fault," Regulus told me, and I found the comedy in his agreement with his brother. I sat up, Barney in hand, and looked at him. I should have been fearful, as I was a half-blood witch, all alone, across from a boy who was obsessed with blood purity. Those four Gryffindors had certainly not seemed chivalrous in their abandonment of me.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered.

"I should kill that toad of yours," he said, but the threat sounded empty when there was a small crack in his voice. Much to my amazement, I realized he was holding back tears. Suddenly, he looked so much younger, and instead of a teenager, I saw a young frail boy in front of me. His pale skin was almost translucent, and I could make out the dark circles under his eyes.

This boy was broken, and I wanted to know why.

"It's okay to cry," I told him, and his features went back to being sharp. "I don't think anyone's told you that before, but it is. My father is the strongest man I know, and even he cries." I released a floodgate with those words. He dropped down to the floor and leaned against the wall, as if he had finally let go of a great weight.

Neither of us moved for a while, and a still sadness wrapped itself around my heart. There was a moment when I felt like I was making a choice by continuing to stay. I could have easily stood up, and walked away, never to look back. It would have saved my life a lot of anguish, but I think more happiness. Whenever I try to pinpoint my last chance to go down a different path, I always come across this image. I am perched on my knees, with his legs stretched inches from me, and his hands clenched tightly in his lap. That was it, the last instance where I had any real choice in the matter.

_I could not walk away. I would never walk away. _

Soon, I wondered if he was aware of my presence as his only movement was the slow rise and fall of his chest. Before I could ask, he spoke.

"He hates me," he murmured, and I promise you, that is the first time he broke my heart. The tears came afterwards, almost hesitantly rolling down his cheeks. Once the sobs began, I saw a release in his shoulders, a slight liberation of his face, as it contorted into despair. I kept silent, just listening, and hopeful that my presence would be enough comfort. We could have sat there for hours, minutes even, and it would have not made a difference. I would have stayed regardless of the time, no matter the misery.

Only the silence of the corridor alerted me that he was done. He stood up and swiftly corrected himself, looking smart once again. There was no longer a trace of tears, and even his eyes had returned to their sallow self. I questioned if this had not been his first cry against an old wall. I knew it had been his first in front of another person. He walked towards me so gently, that I would not have been conscious of his approach if I could not see it with my own eyes. My legs had fallen asleep, so I did not wish to stand, and embarrass myself in front of him. His opinion mattered now, and it always would from this day forward.

He stood in front of me and gradually raised his wand to my neck. My eyes did not leave his as it landed against the soft skin just above my collarbone. I did not flinch, but I felt my chest squeeze, and I was no longer breathing. Hogwarts no longer existed, it was only he and I in the entire universe, and as scary as it was, I did not wish for it to end. It felt powerful and intoxicating to be within his gaze, feelings I only read in books. His thin perfectly balanced lips opened, and I waited for his words to come forth.

"Tell anyone about this, and I will kill you." And I was hooked.

I watched him walk away, and that is where I learned to never follow.


	3. Slytherin

**Chapter 3: Slytherin**

As much as I love words, I cannot find one word to accurately describe my experience at Hogwarts, because I loved it more than any word I have ever read. It was more than I could have ever imagined, and it swept me away the moment I boarded the Hogwarts Express. I had known about it the majority of my life, as my mother was a witch, but she rarely talked about it. Once in while she would drop a clue, or make a reference, and Emmeline and I would hang onto it, and discuss what that could mean. For ages we talked about the forbidden forest, and made up grand adventures about its happenings. With only our handpicked sticks and pillowcase capes, we would go gallivanting around the yard, fighting off made up beasts, and collecting dazzling treasures. It was greatly disappointing to learn that witches did not wear capes, though robes were a nice enough alternative. And as it turned out, some of our made up beasts were not so very made up.

It was hard to say why my mother did not talk about her life at Hogwarts or her life as a witch in general. Once she married my muggle father, it was as though she buried that past life of hers, never to return. She would not even reveal which house she had been in, though I suspected Gryffindor. I could not forget the relief on her face as she read Emmeline's first letter home. She did not have any wizarding friends, and we never met any of the family on her side. That is to say if there even was any, because she did not talk about them either. If Emmeline or I ever broached the subject, she would become very quiet, and quickly change the subject. She refused to journey to Diagon Alley with us every year, and not once had she accompanied us to the train station. She did not even use magic at home, so a part of me thought I was only going to Hogwarts to control my magic. My mother had thrown her life as a witch away, and traded it in for the humble life of a muggle housewife.

That is why I might as well have been a muggle-born my first year at Hogwarts. Emmeline had gone the year before, but there was only so much gloating I could handle. Her head had inflated while she was away, and my confident overbearing sister had returned an arrogant wench. Every time she had started to tell me about something magnificent at Hogwarts, she would stop, and say "well you really wouldn't understand anyway." That summer our already fragile friendship faded, and we were left with awkward silences and avoidance tactics. It was almost a relief to be sorted into Ravenclaw because it was easier to stay away from Emmeline, and it was something she did not know about. The library was also a place Emmeline's knowledge seemed substantially lacking of. It was a place I felt mostly at home. For many, Hogwarts was their first home, and it welcomed with eager arms students who did not have such an easy home life. Hogwarts was not my first home, and it could not hold a candle to my first. My childhood had been packed with a kind of love that made you feel whole and warm. Home was loud laughter, biscuits in the oven, and the sound of Jo Stafford playing in the background.

Despite its quietness, the library was the closest to home I could get at Hogwarts. Perhaps it is because it was the most welcoming. The decor reminded me of my father's study, lined up with tables for me and Emmeline, with high bookshelves pushed against every wall. My father was an avid reader, a love he passed down to me, and engrained into my very soul. A book was a new adventurer, a new tool to use in life. Every time I opened a new book at Hogwarts, I saw my father's smile or heard his voice as he read to me. I admired my father above all else and took great strives to please him. If he had a library as vast and amazing as Hogwarts, he would surely devote his life to reading and absorbing every book available. So, that is where I spent a majority of my time at Hogwarts, including this particular Sunday afternoon.

It had been almost a week since I had been given the details of Barney's eviction, and I still had not found him a home, not even a temporary one. I had taken to the library to clear my head, and think again upon the situation. Unfortunately, it was quite crowded with students catching up on last-minute work. Luckily, no one had decided to join me as of yet, and I hoped to keep it that way. Michael Turpin sat at the table across from me, naturally. He would look up occasionally to see what I was reading, in hopes of being one step ahead of me at all times, but for the most part ignored me. Michael Turpin was another Ravenclaw in my year, and highly competitive. He was a loner as well, and in all, not a very nice person. He strongly disliked me because he saw me as a threat and was made all the more bitter because I was female. I could feel his scowl or his snicker every time a teacher praised me, or I received a high mark. I just kept my head down, glued to my book, in hopes that he'd soon forget about me. Barney sat in his tank next to me, happily enjoying his dinner.

Oh, and Regulus Black sat a few tables ahead to my right. I could not forget that, as much as I wished I could. I had not realized before how many classes we shared, but suddenly now, he was everywhere. Every time I sat down in my seat, I was conscious of how far away he was, or how close he was. I saw him in corridors, and knew where he sat in the great hall. I tried my best to not stare, but knew I was unsuccessful. He had caught me a few times, and had returned an icy stare, to which I swiftly looked away and blushed. I cannot say I was attracted to him, though I acknowledged his good looks. I was interested, but in what, I wasn't sure. It was a habit of mine to dissect everything I came across to understand how it ticked, to discover all its mysteries. It was part of the reason books and libraries never lost my interest.

I watched as he gathered up his books, and though it was a simple task, there was an aura of privilege to his method. I noticed it in everything he did. It was as if all these tasks were bellow him, and one day he would no longer have to lower himself to complete them. I don't know what made me place Barney's tank in my bag, and follow him, but I did. I waited until he was close to the exit before moving. I just wanted him to acknowledge my presence in some way, to confirm that what happened in that corridor was not a dream. I was convinced that he had to have felt that connection, that little pull on my heart to stay, to be around him. What other explanation could there be for my new-found fascination?

When I turned the corner, he was no longer in front of me, and there was a strange disappointment in my gut. I don't know what I wanted to happen, but it was certain that I wanted something to happen. Surprisingly, my wish was granted in the form of a pull on my waste and a hand over my mouth. It occurred too fast for me to conjure any resemblance of fear or panic, and I was strangely calm as I was pulled into a small alcove with ease. I did not struggle, and such a thought only came to me when I felt another body pressed up against my own. It was not long before I was staring into a pair of cool gray eyes. His hand was still over my mouth, while his other one laid next my head, with his elbow digging into my shoulder, our bodies molded to one another. I don't know why it was this moment that I was first attracted to him, but it was. I always thought it said something about my personality that I should want to be so disturbingly overpowered.

"Why are you following me?" It was a whisper, but it was as strong as a whisper could be. "Are you going to answer me?"

I tried to convey with my eyes, that even if I had a proper answer, his hand was still over my mouth. He seemed to understand as he removed it and placed it on the other side of my head, making it so there were two elbows digging into my shoulders. Upon his removal, I became attentive at how close his face was to mine, as I felt his hot breathe upon my lips. My breathing increased, and I could feel my breasts against his chest, heaving with every intake.

"Well?" he asked, his voice vibrating against my face.

"I don't know." He snickered.

"I thought you were a Ravenclaw."

"I-I am," I managed to answer.

"Do you know who I-I am?" he asked mocking me.

"Regulus Black." His name was so unnatural to my lips.

"Do you know anything about the Black family?" I knew plenty about the Black family. They were a pure blood family with a vast and rich history. You could not read a history book without coming across a Black, who almost always was in power. For some reason, however, I did not think of the fanatics or the many ministry officials. I thought of Andromeda Black, who had been a seventh year my first year at Hogwarts.

"I know about Andromeda," I said, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes. I felt him push further into me, making me gasp for breath.

"You know nothing about her," he spat, specks of his spit hitting me in my face.

"She was very nice."

"She's a blood-traitor," he responded viciously.

"You shouldn't say that about your family," I responded angrily. Andromeda Black had been a welcoming prefect in my first year, as she was always willing and eager to help. I often was lost, and she more than once had to escort me to class. My fondest memory of her was during my first week of Hogwarts, when I was terribly homesick. She had found me in the girl's bathroom, my crying competing with Myrtle's whining. She had comforted me with relatable words and chocolate frogs, and sent me on my way.

"You don't know anything about my family."

"I know Andromeda was one of the nicest people I've ever met. I can't imagine her doing anything to garner such hatred."

"How about marrying a filthy muggle-born." This was a bit of information I was not informed of, and understood his anger at my mention of her. He thought I was taunting him. He would soon learn that I was not that type of person, and the closest I had ever succeeded in taunting was by calling Emmeline a bully.

"There's nothing wrong with being muggle-born. It's the same magic." I still had morals, and my opposition to blood purity was one of them.

"It's an abomination," he yelled, as though it was a line he had rehearsed, or a decree he had heard many times.

I didn't know what to say. What was the point of all this? My father had taught me that there were terrible people in this world, and some not so terrible that could believe horrible things. You could not change some people's ways, he had been insistent upon this fact.

"I don't know what to say," I told him.

"You 'don't know' a lot of things do you?"

"Who did she marry?" I did not expect an answer, but I was curious. He hesitated in his response, as it dawned on him that I was not aware of Andromeda's indiscretion. Also, I think he found it a bit strange that I was trying to start a conversation in the middle of an interrogation.

"Tonks" My heart lit up at his name, and despite my desperate first year crush on him, I was delighted to hear that two such people had found one another.

"He's very nice," I said, and could not help the smile that formed on my face. Regulus frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"Is there anything you don't think that's nice? Are you a Hufflepuff?"

"Well, I don't think you're being very nice," I informed him, a defiant streak entering my body. It had taken some time, but I realized the ridiculousness of our situation. This boy had accosted me, dragged me to a secluded spot, only to be rude and mocking. I had a right to be angry, and though I felt no real anger, tried my best to muster some to put on display. "And there's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff. What's this obsession with houses?"

"Your house is everything; it tells you who you are." He said this with such certainty that I almost believed the lie.

"That's rubbish." He seemed surprised at my answer. "I'm a Ravenclaw, but if I want to be brave, or loyal, or even cunning, no one's going to stop me." He did not answer, and instead, I saw him scrutinizing me.

"What do you think of Slytherin then?"

"What do you mean? What they're like? That's pretty hard to say because they're different. I can assure you that Andromeda would have never put me in a situation like you have, but you're both Slytherin." His eyes glimmered, and I saw a slight tug on his upper lip.

"Really?"

"Of course not, I'm not really her type." I don't know why I said it, but I did. I hadn't quite meant to, and still today I am not entirely sure what I meant by it. I knew how it sounded though, and it brought about an entirely different point of view of our current placement. I felt a slight heat radiate from his face, but he kept his calm.

"And you're mine?" he asked quirking one eyebrow. I thought it an admirable talent.

"Obviously," I replied smiling, and though the topic was tense, the atmosphere was nearly playful.

"You never answered my question."

"About Slytherins?" He nodded his head slightly, his nose barely brushing my own. It was the most sensual thing I had ever felt. "I guess I could try to dissect one to give you an answer."

"Dissect? Like a toad?" His lips formed a full on smile, and despite his insult at Barney, my own followed his example.

"It's the only way to understand the anatomy of a Slytherin."

"You'll need a test subject."

"Are you volunteering?"

"Will you have to cut me open?"

"Perhaps, it may be the only way to know what's on the inside."

"Any predictions?"

"Slime's been a common theory, but I'm going to go out on a limb, and say a heart."

"No way," he responded, his lips making a comical "O." Before I knew what was happening, we were both laughing, our chests vibrating against one another, like a ping-pong table of breathes. It was surreal, and never could I have imagined that I would be pressed up against Regulus Black, trying to catch my breath from laughing too hard. He looked so much younger when he laughed, and though his rough exterior intrigued me, I wanted to see more of this lighter side. Every time I appeared close to stopping, I would catch his eye, and only erupt into more laughter. He was struggling with a similar problem.

"We have to stop," I told him.

"Yes," he choked out.

"It's not that funny."

"I know."

"Then stop."

"What are we laughing at again?" he asked. Our words were slightly muffled by laughter, but somehow we managed to communicate. Only after more attempts to calm down, had we been successful. Once the laughter died out, there was a slight awkwardness hanging in the atmosphere and it finally hit me how close we were. I could feel every part of his body on my own, and I was embarrassed to realize that it was not a one way street. He had to feel mine.

"You're not like what I thought," he told me, slightly dazzling me.

"You thought of me?" I asked curiously.

"You stare at me so often, it's hard not to."

"I don't," I mumbled, the embarrassment hitting me full force.

"Of course not," he responded rolling his eyes.

"How did you think I would be?"

"Boring," he said it immediately, without hesitation. Another boring Ravenclaw. That's what I had always thought of myself, so his assumptions made sense.

"How do you know I'm not? You've just met me."

"I know." I believed him. "Why did you stay?"

"When?" My face scrunched up in confusion as I searched his for an answer.

"In the corridor," he said hesitantly. "Why didn't you just leave?"

"I couldn't leave you alone. No one should be alone when they're upset." A soft tenderness formed in his eyes, and I wished he would always look at me in that way. My fingers involuntarily tensed against his chest, and I felt my palms begin to sweat.

"Even though I'm a Slytherin? And a Black?"

"What does that matter?" I questioned, confused at the real relevance of these truths.

"It always matters."

"Not to me." He smiled and went to respond, but a voice to our left caused us both to jump.

"What's this? Does icky Blacky have a gurrrlllfriend?" Peeves yelled in our ears. We both tried to escape the alcove at the same time, causing us to push one another. Eventually, we both fell out, and quickly looked for Peeves. He hovered over us, with a chaotic grin plastered on his face.

"Vixen Vance and batty Blacky are snogging! I've caught you now!" He cackled maniacally, and began to zoom down the corridor. His chants of "Blacky had his tongue down Vance's throat," "Vance lurrvvvees Black," and my personal favorite "Vance took off Black's pants!" travelled down the corridor to my revulsion.

"He can't tell other people those things!" Regulus yelled, bringing me back to reality. "We have to stop him."

"What are we supposed to do? It's Peeves. No one will believe him anyway."

"I don't even want anyone to think about the possibility of me snogging you." His words stung, more than they should have from a boy who I had only just recently conversed for the first time with. He was already well composed, and there was no trace of our recent encounter. "We have to find him."

"And do what? Beg him not to say anything? Peeves isn't exactly reasonable." He looked at me, scrunching his face up in thought.

"Distract him, make him forget about it."

"Why? It's not like we really were snogging," I said, only "snogging" came out more like a mumbled hiss. I was uncomfortable. I had never discussed snogging with anyone before, and I wasn't sure how to have such a conversation.

"I can't have anyone thinking that I was even talking to you," he responded, angrily, relocating his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. I wanted to punch him, and the feeling shocked me. I had never wanted to punch anyone besides Emmeline before. Violence was not in my nature, as I had always found talking it out, or just apologizing profusely worked better.

"What?" he asked at the look on my face.

I should have told him he was a tosser. I should have yelled all kind of profanities at him, slapped him across the face, and turned with a dramatic huff. Emmeline would have done that.

"Let's split up then," was all I said as I grabbed my bag and calmly walked away. I walked in a haze, releasing any concern I had for Peeves. Regulus Black could spend his entire afternoon searching for the poltergeist, but I had decided to no longer concern myself with the incident. That was until I saw a fuming Emmeline heading straight towards me.

How had I forgotten about Emmeline? I had just spent time up against Regulus Black, a _Slytherin._ I did not care about houses, or prejudices, but Emmeline most certainly did. She hated Slytherins, and their shared hatred was just about her only connection to many of her fellow Gryffindors. And even if he was not a Slytherin, he was Regulus _Black_. If there was one person Emmeline despised in all of Hogwarts, it was Sirius Black, and despite the obvious dislike between the brothers, the connection would only infuriate her. Emmeline had a tendency to think the world was out to get her, that everyone she knew met up and contemplated the best way to inflict torture on her. Even the suspicion that her sister was snogging Slytherin Regulus Black would send her into a rage with a cry of betrayal.

"CHARLOTTE!" My name had never been yelled louder or angrier, and I saw the students behind her cringe at the scratchy tone. Emmeline was wearing her quidditch robes, her face red and her hair wet with sweat, either from her anger or practice, I wasn't sure. Her quidditch team trailed behind, including a grinning James Potter and a gloomy Sirius Black. The brooding face surprised me because I didn't think Sirius would care who his brother was snogging.

"Have you seen Peeves?" she yelled although I was a meter away from her.

"No-no," I said, scared witless.

"Then you haven't heard his new song have you?" she asked, her eyes widening, and her lips scowling.

"It's a gem," James Potter interjected. "My favorite thus far. Who knew Peeves could be such a poet." There was laughter from the other four, but Emmeline quickly snuffed it with a look only she could carry out. Only James was brave enough to keep his grin intact.

"It's the worst thing I've ever heard. It made me want to gauge my eyes out and flay Black." I feared for Regulus Black's life in that insistence, though a selfish part of me was glad I wasn't included in her mutilation plans.

"Stop being a bloody drama queen Vance. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant image for me, but you don't see me running around like a mad man," Sirius exclaimed, clearly annoyed. Emmeline whirled on him.

"Shove off Black, no one asked you! You're a bloody slag, and now I have people thinking I've lowered myself to the likes of you." She had put her finger in his face, and made sure to add an exaggerated jab as she said "you."

"You wish darling," Sirius drawled with a smirk. "I don't want anyone to think about the possibility of me snogging you either." I was momentarily shocked at his words, words used not long ago by his brother against me. "It's not good for my reputation to have my standards so low." Had those been the unspoken words on the edge of Regulus Black's tongue?

Then all at once it hit me: "me snogging you."

"Vance took off Black's pants."

Emmeline's last name was Vance. Sirius' last name was Black. Emmeline wasn't furious because she thought I was seeing Regulus Black, she was furious because she thought Peeves was singing about her snogging Sirius. I was an idiot. I wanted to yelp and leap for joy, but I knew it was inappropriate. I settled for a tight smile. The rest of the Gryffindor team retreated away with sighs and rolled eyes, as if they knew something I didn't. Emmeline was shouting in Sirius' face by this point, and I will say, I somewhat admired his calm demeanor, and the challenging smile on his face.

"Don't mind them," James Potter said to me. "This is a common occurrence." Unsurprisingly, I didn't know what to say. I was not a conversationalist, and it struck me how odd it was that I had interacted with Regulus for so long.

When Emmeline shoved Sirius causing him to stumble backwards, I knew a line had been crossed.

"What the hell!" he yelled.

"What are you going to do about it Black?" she spat.

"That's unfair Vance, Hogwarts has you classified as a girl, so you know I won't hit you."

"Oh come off it, chivalry is dead. I could take you." I did not doubt it. Sirius was obviously taller and stronger, but Emmeline was ferocious and had a very high pain tolerance. Emmeline would rather die than admit defeat. Sirius took a step towards her, and even James' carefree smile had dropped from his face. Before he could intervene, I spoke up.

"Emmeline, are the Owls really as hard as they say?" She spun on me in confusion.

"What?"

"The Owls. I'm really nervous with it being my fifth year and all. What if I muck them up?"

"You've got be kidding me Charlotte!" Emmeline shouted in outrage. I was very thankful that Emmeline had a one track mind. "You of all people are worried about your Owls? Not perfect enough, are we?"

"But what if I do Emmeline? It can happen." Emmeline snorted.

"When pigs fly."

"But that's the thing Emmeline, they can if we want them to." She looked momentarily stunned by this assessment.

"Why do I even bother with you? You're nothing but a freak." She huffed before gallivanting away, her fists scrunched up at her sides. I suspected she was off to find her best mate, Benjy Fenwick, for several hours of complaining.

"That was impressive," James said to me, alerting me to the fact that I was alone with him and Sirius.

"I have loads of experience," I said quietly. Sirius had a funny look on his face as he examined me, his dark curls slightly covering his eyes. I tried not to compare how much he looked like Regulus.

"Sorry to hear that," James said. "Charlotte, is it?" He put his hand out for me to shake, and I shyly took it as I nodded. "James Potter, Gryffindor quidditch captain and famous Marauder." "Marauder" referred to the name he and his band of friends called themselves. I though it over the top. "And this is Sirius Black, though I'm sure you know all about us." The arrogance astounded me.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow and seductively smirked. Before I knew it, he had taken my hand and lowered his lips to place a chaste but alluring kiss on my knuckles.

"M'lady," he spoke, his smarmy personality showing through. Despite my slight disgust, a heat rose to my cheeks, and I nervously began to play with the hem of my skirt.

"How's the toad?" James asked, and he could not know how thankful I was for that topic change. I could talk about Barney forever.

"Alright, though I haven't found him a new home."

"Why's he been ousted again?" James asked curiously.

"He's been bothering the girls in my dorm."

"What could a toad possibly do? Sure, he's not pleasant to look at, but there's not much to them, is there?" I wished people could be more understanding of Barney. "Peter's dreadful cat has been pissing all over the dorm for years but even he has kept his home."

"Well he sits on their chests while they're asleep, and on their stuff. And Barney has a tendency to begin a croak, but never quite finish." I felt foolish explaining this to them.

"Why on their chests specifically?" Sirius Black asked, intervening.

"He's a breast man," and it was out my mouth before I knew it. Immediately James and Sirius broke out into loud laughter.

"A kindred spirit!" Sirius proclaimed.

"I thought he'd be a leg man," James said, adding another corny toad joke to his list. "Well if you can't find anywhere, look for us. I'm sure we can work something out. Sirius doesn't have any pets."

"Too much trouble, I say." There was no possible way in a trillion years that I would ever consider letting Sirius take care of Barney. "But there's something intriguing about a toad with a tit fetish."

"I'll keep that in mind," I told them. "Well, I better be off. Work to do," I motioned towards my bag.

"Care to join me for a quick snog first?" Sirius asked me, and I was so surprised at his question that it took several seconds for it to process. He had to be joking. "There's an empty classroom just down the hall."

"You're joking," I asserted. He tilted his head as though he was taking in all of my features.

"Well you're a little plain, but I've snogged worse. Kathleen Davies for one." I couldn't believe what he had said, and I even saw James cringe at his words.

"Mate, no need to be so brutal," James interjected.

"I'm not James, I thought it a compliment. It's obvious she has low self-esteem. I only said she was a 'little plain.' What's the problem?" His words bounced around in my head, as I tried to understand them. He thought I had low self-esteem, a thought that had never crossed my mind.

_Should I have low self-esteem? Was I that hideous?_

For the second time that day, I found myself wanting to punch a Black in the face, but restrained myself. Instead, I straightened my shoulders, and with all the self-respect I had left, nodded my head with a "Good day gentleman," and continued on my way.

As if my luck couldn't get any worse, I ran into Regulus for the second time that day. He was standing against a wall near the Ravenclaw common room, hands in his pocket, with one leg bent so that his foot was against the wall. He pushed off when he saw me.

"Did you find him?" he asked anxiously.

"No."

"Did you even look?" he asked with a scowl. I decided to put him out of his misery.

"No need. Everyone thinks he's talking about my sister and your brother. She's furious." He visibly sighed with relief.

"Thank Merlin," he said rubbing the side of his face.

"Was it really that big of a tragedy?" I snapped. "Am I that ugly?" He looked startled.

"What? No-"

"You and your brother have a lot of nerve!" His eyes went dark.

"What does my brother have to do with this?" I was too embarrassed to tell him about his brother's proposition.

"Just forget it," I told him heading for the common room.

"Vance, wait!" he yelled and I whirled around to face him, not realizing how close he was to me. "What's your name?" I stared, confused. "Your first name, I mean."

He didn't know my first name. I wanted to cry, but then I wanted to scream at my stupidity for crying over this boy.

"Charlotte."

"Charlotte," he said softly, and I loved the way it sounded on his tongue, and the way his lips molded to form the name. My name. "It's pretty."

"Don't get used to it, you'll never use it again," I informed him roughly. "It's Vance to you."

I left him there, not waiting for a response.


End file.
